


Dry Your Tears

by AgentSprings



Series: Theme Week: Cow Chop [2]
Category: The Creatures | Cow Chop RPF
Genre: M/M, Trope Tuesday, tw:cc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-10 11:24:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14736071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentSprings/pseuds/AgentSprings
Summary: (Tuesday prompt for Theme Week: Cow Chop)So it had happened. With Brett as Aleks’ emergency contact, James knew why they were calling him away. They'd finally called it and Aleks was dead.





	Dry Your Tears

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AgentSprings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentSprings/gifts).



> Read part one [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14721728)

“Mr. Hundley?”

James didn't raise his head as Brett vacated the seat to his right. “Yeah, that's me.”

“Come with me please.” Their shoes squeaked on the shiny linoleum floor as they walked away, leaving James alone in the waiting room. 

So it had happened. With Brett as Aleks’ emergency contact, James knew why they were calling him away. They'd finally called it and Aleks was dead. His chest was tight, fire in his lungs and throat as he inhaled. His eyes hurt no matter if they were open or closed and he could feel how puffy they were, no doubt bloodshot throughout. His tears were gone, sopped up by the shoulder of Brett's hoodie as they had spent the past hour sitting in the waiting room. Only an hour and he hated this room, the white sterile floor, ceiling, and walls with a teal stripe around the room giving a half hearted splash of color to match the chairs. It was his new most hated color. Fuck teal, he never wanted to see this particular shade again.

He glared at the exposed corner of the flat worn out cushion of the chair he sat on, his eyes pricking with tears despite his state of dehydration. He needed a drink. 

He pushed himself up, aggressive enough to shove the interconnected row of chairs back an inch against the wall and stalked out of the room, heading for vending machines down the hall. 

“James,” Brett called after him. He waved him off, refusing to look back. “James, get your ass back here, you will want to hear this.”

“Man, I'm tired, I just want to go home.” He rubbed his hand over his eyes as he turned towards Brett.

“Come on. They're going to let us see him.” 

James searched Brett's face, looking for a reason he would think James would want to see Aleks’ lifeless body. Brett stood at the end of the hallway, cocking an eyebrow at him and waving him back impatiently. James glared at him, but trudged down the hallway like a rebellious teenager. Get it over with and go home, put this awful day behind him and forget. 

He was walking ahead of Brett now and already deciding what his poison was going to be, mentally running through the cabinet of alcohol waiting for him at home when Brett touched his shoulder and pointed to the right, into one of the hospital rooms. He glanced into the room and then down the hall where the sign pointed towards the morgue and to Brett, who gave him a smile and a smack on the shoulder before pivoting on his heel and walking back to the waiting room. He stood there, bewildered for a moment, before taking a cautious step forward, craning his neck to see further into the room from the doorway. The bed slowly came into view as he stepped forward, first feet covered by a blanket, then bandaged hands resting on top of the blanket and then… _Aleks._

James’ felt like the breath had been knocked out of him as he saw Aleks lying pale in the bed, tattooed arms covered in white bandages and a transfusion bag hanging from an IV pole, heart monitor beeping quietly but steadily in the corner. 

“You fuck,” was all James could say, the words falling hollow and empty of passion from his lips. They didn't mean anything, they were just the first words to make it past the barrier between his brain and tongue in that moment.

Aleks’ eyes blinked slowly open and he grinned happily at him. “Jaaamie…”

James made himself take the last six steps into the room and up to the bed. “I thought you were dead, you… piece of shit.” 

Aleks raised his hands in a half assed shrug, a sheepish smile on his face. “Sorry, still here.”

“Good.” James nodded, looking around the room awkwardly. Did Aleks remember the conversation from the car? 

“Aw, he does care.” 

“No, I don't.” 

“Yeah, you do. Dude, you look as bad as I feel.”

James hooked his foot on a nearby chair to drag closer, scrubbing his hands over his face as he flopped into it and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. His face resting in his hands, stretching his lips out comically causing Aleks to give a breathy laugh, squinting his eyes closed and pressing his head back into the pillow. “Shit dude, I am so light headed right now.”

“No shit, huh? You left half your blood in the backseat of Brett’s car.” _And in my sweater, and on my hands._

“I would say sorry, but he challenged me to a race and now my car is FUBAR, so who really owes who here.”

“Oh, so _now_ you remember what happened to your car.”

“I seem to recall you crying over me too.” The look on Aleks’ face was smug and James wanted to slap it right off.

“Fuck you, you stopped breathing and that shit was terrifying.”

“For what it’s worth, I meant what I said,” Aleks broke into a yawn as he said it, shifting to get more comfortable in the bed. He looked like he was going to fall asleep at any moment.

“There’s a lot to unpack there, but uh-” James scrubbed his hand over his face again and leaned back to prop his feet on the bed “- I meant it too.”

“That’s sick, dude.” Aleks bobbed his head happily, suppressing a yawn. It may have been because he was high as a kite from painkillers and a lack of blood, but he looked worn out. 

“You look like you need sleep.”

“You're one to talk,” Aleks’ eyes were slipping closed now, heavy with sleep. 

“Yeah whatever, bitch. Get some sleep.” James’ breath caught in his throat as he watched Aleks fall asleep. It was different this time, he didn't look as lifeless as he had in the back of the car, but it still scared him.

He got up to close the door in hopes a nurse wouldn't come chase him out since it was so late and then sat back, settling in and counting the beeps from the heart monitor to reassure himself that Aleks was still alive. 

**Author's Note:**

> For AgentSprings because I promised them I wouldn't kill Aleks for Make Me Cry Monday, but it sure looked that way didn't it. I don't know what exactly this trope would be called, but it's basically "not as dead as he looks"?


End file.
